


melancholy skies

by kwitegay



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Fluff, But Will just wants him to smile, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Holiday Vacation, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Metaphors, Recreational Drug Use, george is sad, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22668097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwitegay/pseuds/kwitegay
Summary: Because George doesn't feel like he belongs here. He doesn't belong in the blue-grays of Wales with the waves forever erodding away at the rocks they're destined to crash against.He's sunshine and clear skies and the feeling of warmth against ones skin and Will wishes he could take away every wave of worry that threw itself at his rocks.-or, will and george run away to wales, george is sad, and will adores him.
Relationships: George Andrew/Will Lenney
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> hello! this will probably have like 5ish chapters maybe, and they will get longer, consider this first one a bit of a prologue. enjoy!

A loud ringing wakes Will up. It's muffled by his pillow, but when he feels for his phone and pulls it out he sees George's contact calling. 

"Wahey?" He mumbles, voice still groggy from waking up. It's three a.m, and he'd only gotten a few hours of sleep. 

He rubs his eyes and sits up, feeling more than a bit disoriented.

He hears a sniff and a shakey voice on the other side, "Will?"

Will sits up, worry immediately making his eyebrows furrow, "Woah what's wrong?"

"I can't - you - I," He sounds out of breath and Will immediately throws his duvet off his body. 

"George do you - you wanna come over and talk?"

George laughs then, more of a huff of air than anything, "I'm uh, I'm already outside."

Will takes a moment to process his words, but he springs up from bed and hangs up the call. He opens the front door, seeing George with a nervous smile and phone in his hand. 

His eyes are glassy and Will can see tears streaked down his face. He's in his pajamas and his hair is messy and he _immediately_ slides his arms around Will's waist. 

"Woah, hey," Will says softly, pushing the door shut and resting his hands on George's back, "What's going on?"

George pulls away, shaking his head and wiping his eyes quickly, "I can't fucking do it anymore."

"Do what?" Will asks, grabbing a nearby tissue box Gee had insisted on keeping in the living room and offering it to his friend. 

"All of it! The videos, the hiding, the constant go and go and  _ go _ ," He says, "Fucking London! The rain and the gray and the forever-goddamn-sameness."

Will nods, guiding George to the couch and sitting beside him. Their knees knock and Will notices how cold his skin feels. He rests a hand on his knee in a subconscious attempt to warm him up a bit. "What can I do to help?"

George shrugs, looking at the ground, "I feel like I'm constantly suffocating, like it's all just resting on my shoulders and I can't take it. I need to get out - I need to - I-"

"Maybe," Will says softly, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder "You need to go on Holiday? Take a break from videos and London and the forever-goddamn-sameness?"

George thinks for a moment, looking at him with a sudden realization, "Come with me."

Will raises an eyebrow, "What?"

"Come with me! We can go somewhere nice, take a week off or something, in a new country! I don't think I could go alone and I’d take Alex but he’s really busy recently and honestly I’d rather go with you-"

"Where?" Will interrupts, head spinning. A weeks long vacation alone with George? Could be amazing - or an absolute disaster. Probably both.

"We'll figure that out!"

Will purses his lips, thinking, "I suppose I could use a bit of a vacation..."

George smiles at that, and Will thinks he much prefers his face when he's smiling. The thought fleas his mind as soon as it came, and then George is yawning and they remember what time it is. 

"You should sleep," Will says, "We can talk more tomorrow?"

George bites his lip, "Listen I - if this is weird, just tell me to fuck off, but I still feel really... bad and I..."

Will smiles, "Yes, you can."

It's a weird thing they have, knowing each other well enough to understand what that meant - they didn't mind, though, it felt special. 

Will makes sure George has enough space to be comfortable before he pulls the duvet over them both, sinking into his mattress. 

Soon enough though, George's head is on his shoulder, curls tickling his chin. Will slides a hand to his back, thumb brushing against his shoulderblades. 

He feels coldness through his shirt and realizes George is crying again, "You'll be okay," Will assures, voice quiet, "We'll figure this out."

"I'm worried," George whispers, "That it'll follow me wherever I go."

Will frowns, feeling the wetness seep through his shirt It’s uncomfortable, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t hold him closer. "What'll follow you?"

"This feeling."

Will doesn't know what to say - so he settles for rubbing circles across his back and trying to match his breathing. He doesn't allow himself to fall asleep until he's sure George is, and then he dozes off. 

* * *

Will wakes up alone. He's facing the wall and turns to see George gone, with a sea of sheets where he was a few hours ago. He worries for a moment, but as he staggers out into the living room, the fears evaporate. 

"Good morning," George says, tucked into the couch and on his phone. 

"Hey," Will smiles, "Fancy a cuppa?"

George stands, following him into the kitchen, "Do you have that stuff you made me a few weeks ago?"

Will thinks, "You mean the russian earl gray? Yeah I do, it's my favorite."

George fiddles with his fingers, leaning against the fridge, "Some of that please then." 

Will puts on the kettle and busies himself with putting various things back in their rightful places that were previously across the counter. George watches. 

He seems timid - he always does, in a way. The persona he portrays online is different than who he is in real life. His voice, even, softer and even a tad posher than his internet voice. 

George in reality, his rings and necklaces and drawer of scented candles - Will adores him, really. 

"You think," George says then, "We could look for places to go over tea?"

Will raises an eyebrow. So he's serious about him accompanying him on this holiday. Not that Will minds - he could use a bit of time off, honestly. 

"Sure," Will says, "Go look up places and I'll prepare your tea. Milk and sugar, right?"

George nods, a small smile on his lips as he goes to the couch. 

"Can I use your laptop?" He asks as Will grabs the milk from the fridge. 

"Yeah, password is Darcypuppy123, capital D."

George laughs, a warm giggle that makes Will smile. He likes George's laugh, it's another part of him that felt softer. 

He prepares their tea and uses the mug George always chooses when he comes over; A yellow mug with bumps for him to run his fingers across. 

Will takes their tea to the couch, putting both of them on the table to cool. 

"What're we thinking?"

“I was looking for highly rated Airbnb’s and look - this one is in Wales, sea view, hot tub, nice house, and fairly reasonable price for a week stay.”

Will looks over his shoulder, “Spacious, romantic getaway in the heart of Wales,” He reads allowed. 

“Romantic,” George teases.

Will laughs, “It looks nice, we going to Wales?”

George grins and rests his chin in his palm, “I think it sounds nice.”

“Great,” Will says, picking up George’s mug, “Now drink your tea and I’ll look for flights.”

* * *

“I should bring swim trunks, right?” Will says. They’re facetiming in their respective apartments, packing for their flight tomorrow. 

“Definitely, hot tub and ocean.”

George hums softly as they fold their clothes and stuff them into suitcases and Will almost gets distracted. It’s just that his hair looks offly curly and he’s freshly shaved and even through the phone screen he just looks pretty. 

Will has come to the conclusion in the past year or so that he wasn’t as straight as he once thought he was - that isn’t the problem. The problem is the fact that he’s thinking bout one of his best friends in that way, who he’s about to go on a week long getaway with in a  _ romantic _ house.

He groans loudly, entirely forgetting he’s still on facetime with the same boy he’s having a bit of a crisis over. 

“You alright, mate?” George says, pausing in his folding of one of his sweaters. 

“Yeah I - yes, just realized that I can’t bring all my bath bombs.”

George laughs, “Mug.”

Will feels his cheeks warm and he keeps packing, stuffing clothes and extra chargers and everything he thinks he might need in his bag. “Shall I see yous early tomorrow morning?”

George smiles at him through the phone, all teeth and excitement and Will feels warm. It’s a warmth that spreads through his chest and he has to hang up because god dammit. He is absolutely, positively fucked.


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm happy you trust me to tell me all this and I promise you, no matter how bad you feel or how helpless, I'll be there."
> 
> George smiles, genuine and thankful, and they fall into a comfortable silence. They sit there, on the patio of their Airbnb, until it's dark and cold and they’ve exhausted all stoned conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right hello, so this involves some drug use so if ur not comfy with watching george and will get high and lots of crying then this might not be a good idea - otherwise, here's chapter 2!!

"Will, mate we're about to land," George says softly, hand on his arm gently shaking him. 

Will's eyes open and he immediately closes them again, bright lights making him tear up. George laughs lightly, warm and sweet, and Will opens his eyes again. 

"So we're in Wales then?" He asks, yawning. It's still early morning, maybe nine or ten, and man he is hungry. 

"Yeah, fancy getting brekkie when we're off?" 

"You read my mind."

It feels awfully like a date. 

It's just a cafe inside the airport, luggage close to their legs and food awfully rubbery, but it's nice albeit. 

"I'm excited to explore," George says, "Is it weird I feel a bit better already?"

"Not at all, a change of scene can help get out of a funk."

George sips at his coffee and Will feels the dread again. He's so pretty, if he wasn't so goddamn pretty maybe this would be easier. 

His eyes are fascinating, like honey pooling into a summer pond - something Will had noticed before, but never had the guts to admire the way he is now. 

"Done with your breakfast?" George asks, brushing together his hands and smiling. 

"Yeah, wanna go to our new home for the week?" He offers, "Make sure it's fit for wor."

They gather up their luggage and find a cab to take them about fifteen minutes to their airbnb. The sky is blue and cloudless and when they get to the house, there's a breeze and at the moment, Will doesn't miss London. 

"This is a nice house," George mumbles as they get their bags from the trunk, "Jesus, look at the fucking ocean!"

The biggest appeal of the airbnb is the ocean view, cliff just a couple dozen paces from the back porch. 

The key is under one of the plants outside, like the house owner had told them. The living room is spacious with blues and yellows and gorgeous decorations. 

"This is like a hotel but nicer," George mutters, "Let's look at the bedrooms!"

There are two, one only slightly bigger, each with bedside tables and lights strung around the rooms. 

"You can have the bigger one," Will tells him. 

George looks like he wants to disagree but Will shushes him, “You need a break, you deserve the bigger room, I won’t argue with you.”

George smiles, all red cheeks and nervous, and then they’re hugging. His head is to his chest and arms looped around his waist, “Thank you,” He says, like he’s exhaling the words. 

Will feels his chest warm and he hugs him back, and they stay like that for a while, until George pulls back and looks to the floor. 

“I uh.. I think I’m gonna go sit outside for a little bit, feel free to join me later I just, I need a bit of alone time.”

Will agrees and watches as George leaves. He searches around the kitchen, looking at all the food and drinks the people left for them. He looks through the rooms and bathrooms and all the art on the walls. He scrolls through his phone until he’s bored and glances through the sliding glass door that leads to the patio. 

George is sitting a few feet from the patio in the grass, wind going through his hair and legs criss crossed. He looks like an oil painting. Will does join him eventually, wordlessly sitting beside him. George’s eyes are closed, like completely unaware of Will’s presence. 

“Do you ever feel,” George says quietly, still keeping his eyes closed and proving Will’s fist thought wrong, “Like the world is about to open and swallow you whole?”

Will thinks for a moment, frowning, “Sometimes.”

“I feel like that constantly, like at any moment the ground could split open and I’d just be falling for _hours_ and I could scream but no one would hear me and I’d be utterly helpless,” he sounds out of breath, like he’s choking on air, and when Will looks at him he realizes that though his eyes are closed, he’s crying. 

George didn’t cry much. He’s composed and has good control over his emotions, so for Will to see him cry three times in one week is both jarring and incredibly concerning. 

“I just - no matter what I do it’s like I can’t shake the fucking clutch these feelings have on me I feel like I’m dying, Will.”

It’s like a punch in the gut, in a way, when George collapses against him, face buried in his shoulder. George, composed and timid George, completely unraveled in front of him. 

All Will knows how to do is hold him, so he does. He holds his sobbing frame in the grass, listening to the sea and running comforting hands through his hair - his sobs seem to drift into the open sky and float away, and eventually he’s quiet. 

“I’m sorry,” George mutters, “God I hate being a mess in front of people.”

“Hey,” Will says, voice soft, “You are not a mess and you have zero reason to apologize. You’re my best mate alright, I’m here to support you anyway I can.”

George lifts his head off his shoulder and Will slides his fingers out of his hair. The shorter falls back and lays in the grass, eyes falling closed. Expectantly, he waves Will forward like he’s saying it’s okay for him to join him. 

He lays beside him, almost wishing there were clouds for them to watch, but the breeze feels nice and George’s presence feels even better. Something about being around George felt like a rest from the constant go-and-go, which makes him want to be that rest for George as well. 

He wants to be that break from all the stress, he wants to be helpful and make him happy. He wants it so bad. 

“I don’t know how I feel so comfortable around you,” George says, “You make me feel like it’s okay for me to cry and fall apart.”

“Because it is,” Will says, turning to look at him, “Don’t feel bad for having emotions, that’ll just make things worse.”

“I suppose you're right. I guess I just have a bit of a problem with not feeling man enough? I mean I’m five foot seven on a good day, yous all make me look like a shrimp, add crybaby to that list and what am I?”

“Still a man,” Will says simply, “Being shorter than us doesn’t mean shite. You nearly took me hand off when we first met, you’re driven and smart and you’re just the man I am, if not more of one.”

George’s eyes seem to sparkle at that, “How do you manage to make me feel so much better with just a few words?”

Will’s heart soars, “What can I say, good friend I am.”

“You are.”

* * *

The next day is fairly uneventful. They binge some movies, order in some food, and George says mid-afternoon that he has a surprise for Will but it’ll take him an hour. 

He busies himself while his friend is gone by editing a pre-recorded video, and when George comes back he looks ecstatic, to say the least. 

“Someone looks happy,” He says, smiling as George closes the door and pulls a bag out of his pocket. 

“So my mate is from Wales and he has some connections and through the magic of money, I have…” He presents the bag and Will’s eyes widen. 

“Are those joints?”

George nods, grin on his face, “If you’re up for it, that is.”

Will hums, “I think I could be down for that. He was nice enough to prepare us a way to smoke it, would be a waste not to huh?”

George looks ecstatic and waves for him to join him outside. They settle on the porch chairs - it’s late afternoon and the sun shines bright, but Will is more focused on the boy searching his pockets for a lighter.

"Haven't smoked weed since my teenage years," Will says, to which George laughs. 

"When Alex and I went to America we uh - we partook a few times," He explains, "Figured it's a good way to unwind."

Will watches as he lights the joint, struggling with the breeze. He helps, cupping his hands around the flame so it can light. 

George takes the first hit, breathing it in deep and exhaling with a smile, "Oh yeah, this is a way to unwind alright."

Will takes it and the second the air floods his lungs he thinks shit, he is not used to it. He coughs, hand against his chest and scowling when George laughs. 

"Listen, haven't done this in a minute!"

George rolls his eyes in a fond, sweet sort of way that Will wonders if he's over analyzing. 

"Wanna see a trick I learned in America?" George asks, holding the joint up to his lips. 

"Yeah, show me your skills."

George hits the joint but instead of breathing in, he opens his mouth and to Will's surprise, the smoke rushes up George's nose. It's hot, and Will can feel his nerves heat up. 

"That was sick," He says, and he can't tell if he loves or hates the smug look on George's face. 

"S' called a french inhale."

Will takes it and tries to get himself to maybe not think such gay thoughts while smoking weed with his best friend. 

They pass it back and forth, watching it get shorter as they get higher. 

"Y'know," George starts, flicking the ash off the joint so embers fall to the stone patio. "I wish I could tell what's wrong with me."

He looks beautiful with smoke leaving his parted lips, and Will feels almost enchanted with every move he makes. 

"Nothing's wrong with you," He says, starting to feel a bit spacey. He really hasn't been high in years, and he's immediately worried he'll try something and fuck up the friendship with George he'd tried so hard to keep perfect. 

George smiles, "I'm glad I came to you, that one night. I was in... a really bad place."

The joint is almost non-existent so George puts it away, making no attempt to move from the patio.

"I'm glad you came to me too," Will says, "You weren't... you weren't thinking of doing anything bad that night, were you?"

George is quiet, eyes cast out at the ocean, lips pursed together. 

Will sighs, "Fuck, George," he whispers, feeling his chest ache. 

"I wish I could tell you that it hasn't crossed my mind but it has. I think for a moment I... I thought it'd be the only escape."

Will feels his eyes sting and he realizes that tears are threatening to fall, "I'm so sorry you ever felt like you needed to do that to feel okay. I'm so happy to came to me, so so happy."

George looks at him, trying to smile, "God please don't cry because then I'll cry again!"

Will dips his lead down and screws his eyes closed, "I won't, I'm not crying I swear!"

George taps at his hand and when Will opens his eyes again he sees his palm open. His eyes are shy and fingers twitching inward like an invitation. Will holds his hand and immediately notices how much smaller George's is compared to his. 

"I almost did something so stupid," George says, hushed despite no one being around. "I would've thrown away everything good in my life - my work, my friends, you."

He's not looking at him anymore, and Will feels those stupid flutters in his chest that make him weak. 

"I'm happy you trust me to tell me all this and I promise you, no matter how bad you feel or how helpless, I'll be there."

George smiles, genuine and thankful, and they fall into a comfortable silence. They sit there, on the patio of their Airbnb, until it's dark and cold and they’ve exhausted all stoned conversation. 

They head back inside when George has yawned one too many times for him to ignore, and George gives him a small, parting wave when he leaves into his room. 

Will can’t seem to fall asleep, though. He thinks about the feeling of George’s hand in his, his warmth and softness of his skin. He thinks about how George looked with smoke pouring from his mouth and wonders what it would be like to kiss him. 

He’s still spacey and even if his high has worn off a bot in the few hours they’d spent outside, his head still feels light. He hears a ding and turns his phone over.

> **Alex:** How’s Wales?
> 
> **Will:** Good. Got a bit of a problem though!
> 
> **Alex:** Oh? Tell me about it
> 
> **Will:** Think I might be into George. 
> 
> **Will:** Like really into George
> 
> **Alex:** Yeah and? I coulda told you that boss

Will sputters, hands feeling numb. Is he that obvious? Can George tell?

> **Alex:** I saw you was in love with him months ago lad, is this news to you?
> 
> **Will:** Yes it’s fucking news to me you cunt
> 
> **Alex:** Oops. Well you’ll be fine, I’m like 99.9% sure it’s requited
> 
> **Will:** Whas that mean
> 
> **Alex:** You’re kidding.
> 
> **Will:** No mate I’m still high as balls what does that mean
> 
> **Alex:** That he likes you back, now get your stoned ass to sleep or I’ll tell George you wanna shag him. 
> 
> **Will:** Bellend
> 
> **Alex:** Love you too
> 
> **Will:** x

Will groans, discarding his phone on the bedside table and clasping his hands over his eyes. 

> **Alex:** Btw, since when do you smoke weed???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed, kudos and comments are appreciated xxx

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts?? more soon!!!


End file.
